


everyone's a little off centre

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Trans Damian Wayne, Transphobia, abusive mother (talia), and really supportive & soft jon kent, pride month, really supportive batbrothers, transphobic parent/mother, written child abuse scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: some days, damian is reminded who is mother is, and who he is apparently supposed to be.( a little something for pride month that was way sadder and way longer than i meant for it to be)





	everyone's a little off centre

damian rarely liked thinking about his mother. that wasn’t a new discovery for anyone, really — but still. he despised it, just like he despised her. 

although he’d never outwardly admit it, he would rather shoot himself than return there, and he very often felt entire waves of emotion for his brothers, specifically grayson, and his father for even letting him be a part of their family. 

some days, however, he spent whole days thinking about everything to every minor detail. it swallowed him whole and ate him up and spat him out. it burned and singed his body to think about it, scarring and tearing at it even more. he ran fingers across the marks on his chest, dark pink and rough. he cursed them, cursed himself and bruce. why was he allowed to do that to himself? to make everything so much more difficult rather than just getting psychiatric help like his mother said he needed?

days like that, damian spent curled up on the library sofa or in his bed. his family knew, they didn’t touch on it often. just gestures that made damian glow with love but itch with irritation that he loved them. he shouldn’t love them, or anyone. he didn’t deserve to. but grayson would be warm and quiet and leave little mugs of coffee, black as black can be. tim would care for batcow and titus and all the others whilst damian was sick, also occasionally sitting on the floor, blanket over his shoulders at ungodly hours when neither could sleep to tell his brother how they all were. even todd would stop by, admittedly avoiding bruce at all costs to just check up on the kid. most of the time, he wouldn’t say a word. he’d sit down wherever there was room, leaving a whole bag of takeaway from whatever fast food place he passed, and then leave before anyone too annoying could pester him. 

it made damian want to cry. he knew they cared — he couldn’t be stupid like many others were and think they didn’t. but that didn’t mean he just accepted it without a word. well, he did at the time, but he’d shiver and whine in discomfort when he was alone. no for their actions, no, they were his brothers and they only did it because they knew he wouldn’t get annoyed and would be unworldly thankful towards them. they didn’t want thanks though. but discomfort because he couldn’t say thank you, couldn’t burst into tears and scream and be dramatic like in all those movies drake watched. 

bruce didn’t help, really. he’d leave any normal duties whatsoever completely unmentioned on his sons off days, but didn’t go near the library or his room, the kitchen, the roof. alfred was spectacular, making only small portions of damians most favoured foods and leaving them. he’d sometimes get todd to drop off whole dvd sets and put them on in damians room for him, normally telling drake, who would join and watch the movies or shows with his younger brother in silence. 

it wasn’t always like that. the first times had been ruthless. and for a long, long time they couldn’t figure out what it was that set their feisty little brother off every few months. to be honest, he didn’t either. 

the first year, bruce had to go to the library himself and scold his son for not moving, it was three o clock goddamnit, why wasn’t he up yet?! alfred had not been happy whatsoever. in fact, damian want sure he’d ever seen him that angry. 

still pretty calm and collected, but with clipped, harsh sentences as he jabbed at bruce and practically shoved him out of the library. an hour later he’d returned and gently lay a blanket over the youngest son, also leaving a small cup of tea on the table. damian sniffed and tried to ignore the burning at his eyes. 

tim visited him later that day. he’d been dreading it — he really had. but drake was surprisingly sweet, for a while. he’d say his hellos in a low, soft voice that damian probably wouldn’t have even been able to imagine before. he’d spoke about his day, shenanigans with grayson and todd, some sickly cute things about kon-el. 

“you’re not wearing your binder.” he’d said eventually, making damian wince, though he couldn’t see it, the small boys face curled into the side of the sofa. “you were. but it’s on your bedroom floor now, and the others are being washed.” 

damian didn’t say anything. his breathing slowed and quietened, as if he believed that if he were quieter and pretended to not be there, drake wouldn’t notice that he was. it was true, though. he wasn’t wearing one. it was pre surgery, too, so his large dark green, almost black hoodie rubbed against his skin in uncomfortable ways. 

“it’s okay, you know. it’s not good to wear it as much as you do anyway, it breaks your ribs.”

“it’s certainly worth it to feel even that slightly bit more ordinary.” damian whispered, his voice unused and gravelly, and he instantly regretted it. he felt a burn down it, painful and harsh at the disuse. 

tim sat up a little when he ever so slightly heard that. he still knew what his brother had said though. he knew he’d remember it as clear as day for the rest of his life. “you are ordinary. well, other than being in this family. but you are. and you’re so amazing and talented and my brother.” tim put emphasis on the word, and damian felt his heart swell a little at the effort, a warm fuzzy feeling overtaking. “and… your mother,” tim watched carefully, noticing the way the younger boy tensed up. “your mother is a horrible person. and she lied, dami, she lied a lot. there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. dick, myself, even jason and… and bruce are so so proud of you. not a single thing could change that.”

sometimes, damian cried. then he’d cry more, because he felt weak and fragile and ever so useless. today was sadly one of those days. it started normal, he felt normal.

post top surgery now, he was free to roam around the manor without a shirt and not have to patch himself up when his ribs were bruised after wearing his binder non stop for eight hours. at first, he noticed the looks. they were his family, so it made him both squirm and feel a tiny bit more comfortable, if that made sense. dick wasn't bothered at all, although showed his excitement when his brother was finally comfortable enough to do that. tim stared the first time he saw, but quickly stopped. damian knew todd still looked, just sometimes when he thought the present robin wouldn't notice. he positively did. but he knew jason was just curious, and he didn't mind. he had come so far and it's not like he was embarrassed.

at half one in the afternoon, damian was stretched out on a bench, sweating profusely after sparring with drake. their heavy panting and laughing slighty, quietly because neither were really sure who won was quickly interrupted by loud, vicious shouting. the door slammed open and both boys jumped to their feet, grabbing the nearest weapons. 

in walked talia al ghul. tim stepped in front of his brother, the long, metal staff twisting in his hands. talia smiled, and then completely ignored him, walking closer and closer. damian couldn't move. he felt sick and his hands were shaking and he knew that tim wasn't nearly enough to keep his own mom away from him. “drake.” she said, turning her head to the side ever so slightly. “can we have a minute?” drake growled, actually growled and damian shivered and then two more people were charging into the room.

one jason todd, and one dick grayson. talia didn't flinch but damian felt a wave of relief and had never wanted to collapse and sleep more than then. “hello, boys.” she spoke sharply but oh so smooth, it made the young boys spine tingle and his fingertips sting. “we won't be long.”

“i’m sure you won't mind if we wait then, right?” todd shrugged, raising his eyebrows and clicking his tongue. damian would normally smirk, or at least tilt his head in affection just a little bit. not that he cared for todd, of course.

talia laughed, and it sounded warm and hurtful all at the same time. “nice to see you again jason. clearly the afterlife is suiting you well.” 

damian watched jason sneer. “i preferred death.”

talia said nothing to further entertain him, but settled her eyes back on damian. “i am your mother, and i am demanding you come and speak with me. if you and your brothers do not stand down i will be forced to get rid of them.” damian swallowed, reaching forward and pressing his palm to the small of drake's back, who pressed back against him. 

“i’m afraid i can’t do that.” he replied, strong and slow, physically feeling tim relax against his hand. he exhaled quietly, trying to appear much more brave than he was really feeling at all. he briefly looked at grayson, by the door beside todd, still prepared to fight back if they really needed to. except he looked much more on edge, and damian was positive it was the angriest he’d ever seen him. until talia opened her mouth again, of course.

“i see you’ve ruined your body even more. i’m sure i can fix that.” she said, sneering slightly when she glanced down at his chest, his tank top dipping down at the sides and just showing the pink lined scars. “if you’ll just come with me, i can fix everything. we can get you help, my gir-”

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” dick spat, lurching forward, finally catching her attention enough for her to turn around, only to smirk when todd grabbed the oldest boys forearm, keeping him back. damian was far too thankful to care, normally cussing out dick for being so stupid. but he wasn't sure he could stand to be called that ever again.

talia sighed, and with a wave of her hand, twelve more people rushed into the room, each armed with a sword. damian didn't fight, but his brothers did. they got down two, but damian knew how his mother worked, how her fighters worked. Before he could blink, all three of them had two people grabbing their arms and restraining them. tim kicked and screamed and damian had to close his eyes so he didn't break down, and felt two of the fighters clasp his own arms. everything blurred into one noise. all three of his brothers screaming and dick was most likely in tears and damian just couldn't handle it.

“fine.” he mumbled, blinking his eyes open. his brothers yelling died down and so did the sounds of bruises being created on skin. 

“dami…” damian flinched again, refusing to look at grayson, but he could imagine the expression. heart broken and terrified and angry at himself, talia, everyone. He couldn't find his mom anymore though, he couldn't risk their lives like that.

“i’m glad you decided to comply, daughter.” damians eyes stung at the name, and he felt his body go almost completely limp, just enough energy to not be forcefully pulled the whole way there. He closed his eyes so he didn't have to see anything or anyone.

“you can't do this.” todd hissed, twisting and turning and kicking. damian just wished they'd stop, for no one to talk ever again so he could pretend it all wasn't happening. he let out a sob before he could stop himself. the room went quiet, and then there was a loud smack and a blistering pain spreading across his face. tears rolled down his cheeks and burned as they moved over the mark. a sharp kick to his side, another cry of pain, physical and emotional. every slight noise gained another mark on his body, enforced by his own mom. the three ex robins thrashed around and yelled to the points their throats would probably start bleeding, and damian was just being beaten to the point where he couldn't make any noise, he was just slumped on the floor, shivering and bleeding and they finally started to pull him away. 

just as they reached the fe meters in front of the doors, they shattered and fell onto the floor. the people around damian stopped guarding and moved to whatever had smashed the doors down. injured and tired and all together unbothered, he stumbled and fell forward, blinking blood out of his eyes. before he hit the floor he felt arms wrap around his torso, and then fell completely unconscious. 

-

he didn't wake up for a day and a half.

it was dark when damian woke up with a start, his whole body in an immense, aching pain. he blinked slowly, hissing as the brightness of the room slowly changed as his eyes adapted and watered slightly. “dami?” someone mumbled from beside him. he realised he was actually in his own room, his hands trembling with the realisation and his throat closing up. he turned his head, tears falling down his cheeks as he slowly worked out the silhouette of jonathan kent. “you’re awake.” he breathed, and only then did he notice the hand completely wrapped around his own. 

“w-what happened?” damian asked, his voice torn and fragile, making him splutter over his words. jon squeezed his hand, shuffling closer to the bed. He did notice the way damian tensed up when he glanced at their hands, but he seemed way too exhausted to really care too much.

“our dads, me and conner busted in. took them down. you passed out way before then though. how are you?” damian closed his eyes, leaning back into the bed again. he rolled his head back, his chest constricting. all the bruises and cuts, all the emotional hurt. he felt sick, and sharply tugged his arm away from jon. he curled onto his side, facing away from his friend as he replayed the situation over and over in his head. he didn't want to cry, he really didn't, but a painful sob left his mouth and tears started falling from his eyes, not stopping and not slowing. “dami, hey! calm down. im not going to hurt you. please just… i'm here, and i'm me. trust me.”

the present robin choked on another sob, his legs pulling to his chest and his arms curling around his body. he shrieked when he felt a hand on his side, kicking out until hands were holding him down, turning him onto his back as gently as they could. his eyes were glossed over and stinging. but he couldn't be bothered to put on an act anymore. he was all sorts of exhausted. he stopped fighting, more tears falling from his eyes and he wrapped his arms around his friends neck, sobbing into his shoulder.

jon shifted so he was actually on the bed rather than standing over it, but damian pulled him closer, this time curling his body so his face was buried in jons shoulder, who lay on his back, one arm wrapped around the smaller boys body. “you’re so, incredibly strong, damian. and i will never stop being proud of you. neither will your family. we all love you so much.” jon whispered, his mouth pressed to the top of damians head. “you don't have to pretend to be strong all the time. you already are, by far, and way stronger than anyone i know.”

damian shivered. his eyes stopped leaking, and he lay there for twenty minutes before looking up at jon, who smiled down at him. “thank you, kent.” he muttered, shoulders rolling back in slight discomfort. jon grinned, his other hands sliding along the side of damians neck. 

damian pressed his head into jons hand, a single tear rolling down his cheek. the smallest of smiles pulled at his lips. kent captured them with his own before damian could drop the smallest of gestures. 

the two boys pushed as close as they could together, smiling into one another’s mouths. jons hands skimmed over damians sides as the older of the two shifted so he could straddle kents thighs, his arms either side of jon’s head. they didn't move away from each other until they were lacking in breath, clutching at each other. “you’re... beautiful.” 

damian flushed, pressing his hands into kents shoulders, refusing to show the fact he was just a little… no, he wasn’t. damian wayne didn't do anything that was composed or angry.

other than some days. some days he wasn't quite himself, but that was okay. that was normal. that happened to everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> the beginning where dami isn't with jon was supposed to be min one hundred words and max one thousand. somehow it turned into this overly depressing thing? sorry. ill probably write something cuter for it soon.


End file.
